Plights
by Oppressed
Summary: For Fiona, coming to Hogwarts is a dream, and her only hope for escaping possible enrollment in Durmstrang. As term unfolds, and her father's identity revealed, Fiona comes to realize that she is defined by her choices in life, not by her father's legacy.


Plots and Plights  
  
Prologue:

"Fiona Black is the daughter of the infamous criminal largely blamed for the deaths of thirteen people, only a few of them part of the wizarding community. Sirius Black, a large supporter of you-know-who, and the only criminal to escape the wizarding prison of Azkaban. He is at the present time still wanted by the Ministry of Magic. The catastrophe was later blamed as a gas leak. What eyewitnesses described as a 'large crater, with bodies strewn everywhere' was shocking for the whole of England. Naturally, these images of destruction were never aired, and many memories were wiped that day. All in all, This reporter, stationed near Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is appalled that the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, renowned for being a great, and often debatable genius in the art of wizardry, has allowed such a student to be surrounded by other innocents unknowing of her ruthless father, and her controversial heritage." The vivacious, blonde reporter said, and waved her hand for the camera's filming to be halted.  
  
"Whew." She said, leaning against the car they'd pulled up as close as they could to the magical school without loosing their technology. "That was a mouthful."  
  
"You said it Angie." Her cameraman said, looked furtively around, and snuck a spell under his arm with his wand towards his now tepid coffee. The cool liquid began to bubble enthusiastically, and the cameraman scowled. He'd have to wait now for the once cool liquid, now boiling, to cool down now. He furiously shoveled some snow into his drink, and watched as his experiment iced down. As he tasted his concoction slowly, he glanced to the blonde.  
  
"You think this is right?" He asked, face pale from the biting wind. He put his hands around the mug, savoring the steamy warmth as the hot coffee kicked into his gut. It felt good to have a hot drink, being up here in this bloody weather.  
  
Angie shrugged. "Even if it's not, doesn't bother me. I finally got my story, and I'm gonna use it all I can." She said, voice as cold as the weather. Scott shivered in the wind, and looked for comfort in his cup. _'Hope that kid can find some.'_ He thought, before taking another gulp of the warm amber colored liquid.  
  
The snow swirled into intricate patterns against the darkening sky, and the two wizarding news reporters were soon lost in the flurries as one student of Hogwarts glanced at the abysmal weather and sighed heavily. She pushed back a lock of black hair, so that it was placed out of the way and stayed out of the way. Her silvery eyes trailed the window, looking with longing as other students built creations in the snow, or flung balls of the stuff at each other, just having fun. Their joyful howls of glee were heard, even in the Hufflepuff dormitory. But she turned away from the happy sight, and focused instead on the piles of parchment in front of her. Her studies were of the utmost importance now, even if she did want to play outside, or write in that stupid little black book that she doted on.  
  
Fiona chewed on the end of her quill, willing the spidery handwriting that she called her own to appear on the blank page. Potions was being a nightmare so far, even if Snape **did** hate all his students equally, he seemed to reserve a special hatred for her as well. Assigning her with a twelve-inch long essay on how to properly stew a rejuvenating potion didn't sound like her cup of tea. But she had been threatened, and threatened well into doing whatever her teacher's assigned. Hogwarts was her last chance to get a fine upstanding wizard education. The other schools, upon learning of her heritage, had cast her out, even after the ministry's pleading. Only one other school remained for Fiona after this one, if someone managed to find out who she was. And that wasn't exactly the school she wanted to be going to.  
  
Durmstrang had a reputation for being heavily reliant on the dark arts, and she had no doubt that their headmaster would try and use her as a type of advertisement for the kind of students he controls, or has under his wing. For her part, Fiona didn't want any part in the dark arts. She'd had enough of it.  
  
But, she hadn't had enough of Hogwarts. At least, not yet. The turning, spiraling towers, the changing staircases, the talking portraits, all had welcomed her warmly. The students had been slightly puzzled to find another unknown sixth year in their midst, but once she had demonstrated her aptitude, and closed mouth, she had made several new friends.  
  
_'But will I forever remain just Fiona? I may have a surname I can use for an alias at the ministry's discretion, but still! I feel dishonest. But I feel no one would know the true me if I revealed myself.'_ The constant thought of discovery had made her cautious when she was around her friends and they spoke of the past, which they did often enough, recalling the events that had made Hogwarts spiral out of control of the current headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.  
  
She chewed her tongue, and finally started scribbling on the paper, content to be ignored by the people in the common room, of which there were few she knew personally. Some were in their final year, and many more were younger than she was. Their boisterous laughter and prank planning was halted abruptly, as the roaring fire in the hearth of the common room, surrounded by plush chair full of students eager to get warm, suddenly blew out, and, aside from the flickering of a few candles, the room was plunged into darkness of a frightening caliber. Several of the first years screamed at the darkness, and Fiona wanted to join in, her claustrophobia subtly creeping up on her as she rose from her chair next to the frosted window, and peered out. She could barely glimpse the tower of the Gryffindor common room, but they had lights dancing out of the windows.  
  
"Hush!" She heard one of the prefect's yell, and she nearly growled in exasperation.  
  
"Oh for goodness sake." She said. "Lumos!"  
  
Instantly, the room was quiet, and she shined the light over the lot of them. "Gryffindor still has light." She said in her quiet voice, and noticed a few of the First years starting to cry. 'Don't worry,' she said, not unkindly. 'I'm sure it was just the snow.'  
  
But none that could think for themselves would take her answer to heart, only nod at it for what it was; a reassurance to a bunch of kids still afraid of the dark. After all, the snow had never done this before, had it?  
  
Abruptly, someone said "Knox." The voice, old and aged held power and Fiona's light was extinguished as someone hauled her out of the common room, holding a gnarled hand over her mouth. In the now-returned darkness some of the other Hufflepuff's cried out, and no one noticed the exiting of two people from the common room.  
  
With a savage bite, Fiona was freed, and stepped away, whirling to see her captor, wand at ready. Her steely silver eyes glinted in the light that shone through one of the windows. Then she stared in shock, and nearly dropped her wand. As it was, her arm dropped in shock, and a hand went to her mouth, horrified.  
  
"I'm sorry Headmaster!" She said, eyes aghast. She hurried forward. "Did I hurt you?" She tried to inspect his hand, but was kindly waved away. His eyes were masked; flinty and unreadable in the dimness of the hallway. He silently pushed her in front of him, and hurried her along to his office. Once inside, he nearly laughed, and instead turned twinkling eyes on her confused and slightly scared form.  
  
"I do apologize Miss Black for my rudeness in abducting you from your common room, but I did have a reason. One that will be explained thusly." He said in his age-old voice. It held power, but restraint, and that was what made him trustworthy of thousands of small children, growing adolescents, and young adults. Nevertheless, this was strange behavior from him, even if the times were even stranger. Fiona had never heard of Albus Dumbledore taking a student bodily from a dormitory, and Hufflepuffs were all pleasant people, not rule breakers like Slytherins and some Gryffindors. Glory people, all of them, she'd heard. But that was just what she'd heard of course.  
  
"And those reasons are...?" She asked, confusion giving way to slight fear, her body falling back to a defensive stance; crossed arms, slanted body, curiously tilted head. Albus nearly chuckled, and instead, sat on the chair located behind his desk laboriously. He motioned for her to sit, his eyes one again becoming the pale icy orbs that made Fiona want to back into a corner, and away from the blue fire that was contained behind those half- mooned spectacles. She did sit though, in the chair provided, and watched him curiously as he pushed a newspaper over the smooth wood to within her hand-reach.  
  
The portraits of former headmistress's, and headmasters, were all asleep, thankfully so, or their noise would have been dreadful. Coupled with the roaring in her ears, as she saw the newspaper headline, it would have made her go deaf.  
  
**SIRIUS BLACK'S DAUGHTER DISCOVERED ENROLLED AT HOGWARTS!  
  
FIONA BLACK; THE MURDERER'S DAUGHTER IN ATTENDANCE AT HOGWARTS!**  
  
Fiona stared, shock liquefying her intestines. Her silver eyes, uncomprehending blinked past tears, and she sighed heavily, wanting to give out to uncontrollable sobs, except for the fact that her headmaster was sitting calmly in front of her with the eyes of Lucifer. She set the paper down calmly, her heart beating erratically.  
  
'How did they find out?' She asked, voice wavering, but her posture was perfect, her manners unfailing, just as her Matron would have instructed. If Albus noticed anything strange, he didn't acknowledge it. He instead leaned against his interlaced fingers, propped upwards by his elbows on the desk. His voice spoke clearly to her ears from behind the fingers as he rested his head upon them.  
  
"I have no knowledge of how these people discovered you were here, Miss Black, but because you are registered as Fiona Noir, I don't believe anyone will connect this person's name, to yours. You still possess a semblance of security here. Of course, if you wish to leave, I cannot stop you." Fiona just stared levelly at him.  
  
"If I leave now, everyone will know that it's me. Was there a picture published within the article?" She asked, staring at the page, rifling through the article. It was on Page one, two and three, though page three was more on Hogwart's Headmaster's past in enrolling and hiring dangerous individuals. She briefly scanned it, then closed the paper, folded it, and placed it back on Dumbledore's desk.  
  
"No picture." He said, smiling.  
  
"Then I'll stay, with your permission, Headmaster." She said, her chin jutting out in determination. Her chances of being with her birthfather may have died along with him, but none of her personality had. Oh yes, she was aware that Sirius Black was dead. The ministry was more than glad, almost gleeful to tell her personally that her father had died. The cause, the place and circumstances she was not aware of, only his demise.  
  
Her eyes snapped to attention as the Headmaster stood, and made his way over to her, eyes blue and kind. He set his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. She stared back, slightly defiant. She was also slightly scared, but she hid that from this powerful person. He found what he was searching for in her eyes, and nodded slightly. This year had been different for everyone. Students were still arriving, and some would never return. Fiona nearly shuddered. Being sent to another school would mean Durmstrang. And she didn't want to venture to that place. She loved being a Hufflepuff, exploring, and the like. But they were to have a feast to celebrate the beginning of the term tomorrow, though they'd already had the opening feast. But not many students had gone to that, most had not returned to the school. But there were plenty of students now.  
  
Fiona had kept her head down, and avoided the stares of many of the students. Most of all, she had avoided the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Serverus Snape seemed to hate her, sometimes making her stay after during her lunch break. The whole lunch break. She could barely stand potions, but she had begun to learn the art of making oneself inconspicuous.  
  
Albus patted her shoulder, then made his way back to his desk. "If we are finished with this discourse, your Common Room awaits, fully lit." He finished, and she stood to leave. "Oh, and Ms. Noir." He called lightly, and Fiona turned back to him, face blank, but tilted in a puzzled air. "Please refrain from having a less than pleasant stay at Hogwarts. You are safe here, and none would compromise your stay here. It is my hope that you can finish your studies in peace here." She nodded relief evident on her face. And turned to go once more, and was again stopped by her Headmaster's voice. "And Ms. Noir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Tomorrow, at breakfast; be on your guard." Was the response she was given. She stared at him in perplexion, but turned to leave, exiting the gargoyle statue, and hurrying to her Common Room, where she collected her papers that had been trampled before the Headmaster had restored the light. As she crossed the room, she was given no odd looks, for none had really noticed her disappearance. And those who had, she paid no attention to. If they were so eager to work out her entering and exiting act, then they could have fun with it. As it was, she was bone-chillingly tired, and as she clambered up the stairs to the girl's dormitory, the cat she kept as a pet twined around her feet before she stopped, and lifted him to her shoulders.  
  
The small cat, barely more than a kitten, was orange with dark stripes, gangly fur that stuck up in all angles, and intelligent amber eyes. He purred a welcome, shamelessly playing up to her conscious. She laughed quietly, and patted him gently, before shifting the Mrs. Norris-lookalike into the crook of her arm.  
  
"And just what were you doing down there?" She asked quietly. He mewed pathetically, and tried to turn over, to escape her questionings. In a mock fierce voice, and frowning at her charge, she then tickled him. He meowed, and squirmed. She set him down, and sighed gently, watching his striped tail disappear under her upturned covers.  
  
_'The thing is, because he looks so much like his mother, many believe him to be. Few can tell the difference, despite their size. I don't want him to be kicked, or hurt worse for his genes. He's more like me than he knows poor guy.'_ Ran through her head as she collapsed onto bed, pushing his small body over, until Padfoot scampered back, obviously wanting to play. She was too tired to indulge him; her sudden fatigue had drained her of energy. The cat, realizing his plight would remain unsolved until the morrow, abandoned his corner of the coverlet, and snuggled against his mistress, sensing her misery just as she could usually sense his feelings. He purred, his small frame housing the vibrations that made Fiona's body convulse with laughter, and then she wrapped her arms, still clothed in her ordinary robes, around him and rubbed her face, now mysteriously tracked by tears into his warm fur. She fell asleep like that, and only after did her chest rise and fall in a rhythm did Padfoot slither out to sleep curled up, next to his master, wondering what had made her mood change so drastically. But eventually the little cat was seduced into slumber as well.  
  
A.N- My first dapple into the HP world. Like it? Love it? Hate it with the burning passion of a thousand dying suns? All you have to do is care enough to leave a comment!  
  
Disclaimer: (I'm only posting this ONCE!) I am in no way making monetary profit from this fanfiction. It was made for my immense relief from my muses, and for other's enjoyment. I do own Fiona's character. All other places, people, and items that I do not label as my own belong to J.K Rowling.


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